Hermione's Spanking Adventures
by Gremlin Jack
Summary: Hermione is a naughty girl looking for someone to give her what she deserves...
1. Asking Harry

**Chapter 1: Asking Harry**

Hermione Granger, third-year Gryffindor, was sitting in the Hogwarts library. This was such a common occurrence that her doing something else would have been more noteworthy. She was not reading, but thinking, which was slightly more unusual.

One might argue she had a lot to think about. After all, less than a week ago she and the famed 'Boy-Who-Lived', Harry Potter, as well as their friend Ron, had all been involved in a dramatic confrontation involving werewolves, dementors, animagi, and mass murderers.

As a result of that confrontation, one Peter Pettigrew who had long been believed dead, was instead revealed to be alive and the true betrayer of Harry's parents, while the infamous Sirius Black was redeemed as an innocent man imprisoned for twelve years without trial.

The fallout had been impressive. Some high-ranking ministry official named Crouch had been thrown out of office over his mishandling of Sirius' trial, several other prisoners were being retried, and the current minister Fudge was desperately trying to separate himself from the previous administration. The Dementors had also been returned to the wizarding prison of Azkaban, much to the relief of all of Hogwarts.

Yet, she was not really thinking about all of this, except tangentially. What she was specifically thinking of was her friend Harry Potter, and the change that had come over him.

With Sirius Black freed, he was once more able to take up the role of Harry's godfather. The thought of never having to go back to the Dursleys had revitalized the boy, as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Instead of hiding away all the time, he stood taller and smiled more.

This new more confident Harry was doing things to the young girl. Specifically, over the last few days Harry had been featuring prominently in certain fantasies of hers. It was one of the curses of being born so early in the school year. With a birthday of September 19, she was only a few months shy of her fifteenth birthday. And, as in many other things, Hermione was a precocious girl. She'd developed an interest in sex years ago, and her parents had as usual let her get whatever books she wanted to satisfy her curiosity.

Along the way, she had come across something called The Pearl, a late 19th century erotic magazine. It had contained many sex stories, and among them had been several with a strong BDSM theme. Now, Hermione had no interest in being tied up or whipped bloody. But the idea of being spanked as something other than a punishment to be avoided had taken root in her imagination.

Hermione had always striven to be a good rule-abiding girl, and had been accused, sometimes justly, of blindly obeying authority. Now, for the first time, she was imagining NOT following the rules. Of slipping up, or even deliberately misbehaving. And when this misbehavior came to light, an irate person would take her firmly by the ear and drag her over their knee. Her skirts would go up, her knickers would come down, and her disciplinarian would then proceed to turn her arse as red as the Hogwarts Express.

Over the past several months, this particular fantasy had fueled several pleasant masturbation sessions. During her self-exploration, Hermione had placed several people in the role of her disciplinarian. Stern older women like Professor McGonagall had featured prominently, as had Hogwarts heartthrobs like Cedric Diggory. Over the last week though, Harry had taken pride of place. Under the skinny frame and messy hair was a good-looking boy, and the way he had taken charge during the crisis and stood his ground against a swarm of dementors spoke directly to Hermione's submissive side.

This led directly to now, as Hermione Granger sat in the library and tried to pluck up the courage to turn her fantasy into reality. She spent hours planning approaches and excuses. More than once, she came close to abandoning the idea, or at least postponing it. What finally decided her was the fact that she actually had a reason why she might deserve to be spanked. She could present it to Harry as a result of her guilty conscience, and if he should refuse, they could go back to being friends.

* * *

Harry Potter blinked curiously as Hermione set up silencing and privacy charms on the abandoned classroom she had dragged him into. A small part of him (that sounded like Sirius) raised all sorts of inappropriate suggestions, but he quickly suppressed it. After all, he and Hermione were just friends, no matter how cute he found the way she was biting her lip as she looked at him.

Hermione delayed some more as they found seats facing each other, then she spoke. "Harry, I called you here, because I wanted to apologize."

Harry stared in surprise. "What for?"

"About the Firebolt." Seeing Harry's puzzlement, Hermione rushed to explain. "I treated you absolutely horribly over that. Tell me honestly, Harry, if I'd sat down and properly explained to you what I was worried about, would you have really refused to let the broom be examined?"

After a moment of silence, Harry said slowly, "I guess... I was really excited over it, but if you'd talked it over with me..."

"Exactly. Instead I treated you like a child and went behind your back. I took away your choice. And I just realized, I've never properly apologized for it." Taking a deep breath, Hermione took the plunge. "And... I don't just want to apologize. I also think... that... you ought to punish me for it."

Harry's eyes had gone huge behind his glasses. "Punish...? Hermione, there's no need for that! Besides, I was really mean to you afterwards."

"Maybe. But you did forgive me eventually. That's the thing Harry, you forgave me just like that. Even though I was so horrible to you. It makes me feel like I took advantage of your good nature." Hermione leaned forward and took Harry's hands in her own. "Please Harry? Just punish me and we can be even and I can stop feeling so bad about it."

Hermione held her breath, and almost sighed in relief when Harry tentatively nodded. "All right... but what kind of punishment? Lines?"

Hermione huffed. "Well, if I behaved that badly at home, my parents would have given me a good hard spanking." This was a gross exaggeration. The worst she'd ever gotten had been a light smack to her rear, and that was when she was nine.

Harry choked on air. "Y-you get s-spanked?!"

"Don't tell anyone but I'm not always a goody-two-shoes," Hermione grinned.

"Umm... but I don't want to hurt you."

"Oh Harry, this is a punishment, it's supposed to be uncomfortable. Besides, you'll be spanking me with your hand, and you're not exactly Mr. Strongman," Hermione giggled. "At worst, I'll be sore for the rest of the day."

Poor Harry had gone bright red in the face and seemed to be having trouble breathing. "If... if you're sure..."

Hermione kept the elation from her face. Instead she solemnly nodded. "I am. Please, Harry?"

"All...all right."

"Good. Now, don't freak out. I'm going to get undressed."

"W-what?!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Harry, think about it. You'll just be using your hand. If I kept my robes and skirt on I'd barely feel a thing. Unless... would you prefer to use a paddle or a cane? I could transfigure something."

Harry shook his head violently. "No! I... just..."

Hermione smiled and hugged him. "Harry, calm down. It's not like I'll be naked or anything." _That's for much later._ "Besides. I trust you. You're my best friend."

Once Harry had calmed a bit, Hermione moved quickly, discarding her outer robes. Then she undid her skirt and let it slip down to her ankles. For a moment, she was tempted to pull down her knickers as well and bare herself completely, but she didn't want to scare Harry off. The boy was red enough in the face already.

Shuffling to Harry's right side, she whispered. "I'm really sorry about my behavior Harry. Will you please spank me like I deserve?"

Harry swallowed and nodded. "Sure thing, Hermione."

A moment later, Hermione was draped over Harry's lap. Her palms were pressed against the dusty ground, and if she stretched she could place her toes on the other side. Harry looked down and swallowed again as he saw her deep blue knickers stretch out, revealing the creamy skin of the lower curves of her buttocks.

"Remember Harry, spankings are supposed to hurt, so don't be scared to make it long and hard. Don't stop until I've been properly punished."

"All right. I'm... going to start now."

Hermione held her breath, her insides churning with a heady combination of anticipation, arousal, embarrassment, and a little bit of fear. Then the first spank landed on her right buttock with a sharp _SMACK!_

At first, Hermione could tell Harry was still uncertain and holding back. But after she took the first eight spanks without a peep, he seemed to grow more confident. Hard, sharp spanks started peppering her bum. The strikes would mostly alternate between buttocks, but Harry would sometimes focus several in a row on one cheek before going back to alternating. And as the spanking crossed twenty swats, Hermione realized something - this really hurt!

Each spank added just a little bit more to the growing fire in her bottom. Harry might be a skinny 13-year-old, but after a minute Hermione could have sworn it was Hagrid paddling her arse! She couldn't see the floor anymore because of the tears in her eyes, and she was gritting her teeth to keep from crying out loud.

Yet, not once did Hermione want Harry to stop. Go a bit gentler, maybe, but even as the heat built in her rear, a different, much more enjoyable heat was building between her legs. Even as the spanks rained down, she starting discreetly rubbing her thighs together, finding the pleasure behind the pain.

It was about then that Harry's hand found her sensitive sit spots, right where her buttocks met her thighs. Two hard spanks were delivered to each target, made worse because her knickers didn't cover those areas. Hermione couldn't help it, a loud yelp rang out into the room.

The spanking stopped. Hermione wondered if Harry would take this as a sign that she'd been adequately punished. She let out a little sigh of relief. Even though part of her had been enjoying this, her backside was stinging badly and - _SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK_!

Hermione let out another little yelp as the spanking resumed. This time there was no pause whatsoever. Hermione felt a little spike of fear as she realized Harry was taking her advice to heart. He was going to punish her properly, and a little wailing and tears wasn't going to stop him!

Well, Hermione could stop him. She was certain if she ordered him to, Harry would let her up immediately. But that would also ruin all the work she'd done getting him to spank her in the first place. She wanted Harry to have the confidence to spank her the way she needed it. That meant he needed to trust his own judgement. Calling it off now would spoil everything.

This realization actually made Hermione feel free. It was what she wanted. She'd misbehaved, and now she was being punished for it. Harry was in charge, and all she could do was submit her arse to a beating. Hermione stopped all efforts to control her reactions. She sniffled, and sobbed, and wailed. She kicked her legs and wriggled her bum in a futile effort to stem the onslaught. She joyously threw herself into the role of a naughty little girl unwillingly receiving her just desserts.

Hermione only realized the spanking was over when a minute later she heard Harry's worried voice. "Hermione? Are you all right? It wasn't too much, was it?"

The concern in Harry's voice pulled her immediately from her high. "Of course not, Harry." Clambering up from his lap, she pulled him into a hug, and then added a kiss to his cheek. "You were perfect. It hurts, but it's a good hurt. I feel much better now."

"Ah...OK? You were really crying a lot..."

"If it's not making me cry, then it's not much of a spanking, is it?" The humor in her voice seemed to reassure him, and Harry melted into her hug. He still kept himself a bit separate though, and Hermione knew why. She'd felt his erection poking into her stomach while she'd been wriggling on his lap. She decided not to mention it, as embarrassing him wasn't on her agenda.

Once the hug was over, Hermione looked at Harry bashfully. "Harry could you do me a favor?"

"Sure?"

Shuffling over to her bag, her skirts still tangled around her ankles, Hermione pulled out a bottle of cold cream. "Could you rub some on? My butt is really sore!"

Harry's face seemed to have turned permanently red. "Um... over your knickers?"

"Of course not." Hermione smiled gently. "Don't worry Harry, I trust you to be a gentleman." So saying, she handed Harry the bottle, turned around, and slipped her knickers down to her knees. Then she bent over and placed her hands on a desk to steady herself.

Looking back, she could see Harry frantically looking everywhere but in her direction. "Well, come on, hurry up!"

It took a bit of coaxing, but Harry's hands were soon roaming over her reddened rear, rubbing the cream into her burning hot skin. Peeking back again, Hermione had to stifle a laugh. Poor Harry had averted his face, and was massaging her bum entirely by touch. He was doing a good job, too. As the cream soothed the worst of the sting, Hermione could feel her pussy throbbing in time with her arse.

With the growing sensation came a desire to take the next step. To spread her legs and expose herself completely, give Harry a good look at her aroused sex. How would Harry react? Would he freak out, or ignore it? Or would he whip out the raging hard-on she knew he had, and take her then and there like a bitch in heat?

Hermione sighed and brought her wild wonderings back under control. Neither she nor Harry were ready for that yet. So she kept her legs firmly closed, and focused on enjoying Harry's gentle ministrations.

A minute later Harry was done. Hermione pretended not to notice his sigh of relief as she pulled her knickers and skirt back on. Instead she rewarded him with another hug and kiss on the cheek.

As they separated but still holding hands, Harry cleared his throat. "So, uh, I guess we're even now?"

"Well, that's up to you Harry. Do you think I deserve to be spanked some more?"

"Um, no?"

"Oh good," giggled Hermione. "I'll be sleeping on my front as it is."

Harry chuckled as well. "Well, you did ask for it."

"I did, didn't I?" Hermione smiled softly. "Harry, this might be a weird thing to ask, but do you think you could do it again?"

"Again?"

"Well, I know I can be a really bossy bitch at times. No, don't deny it, you know it's true. So, I guess, I'd like your help in keeping myself in check. I'd like to give you permission to spank me whenever you think I'm misbehaving."

"I don't think you're that bad..."

"That's because you're way too nice. Please, Harry? You're the only one I can trust like this."

"Well...all right."

"Thank you, Harry. We'll talk more later, OK? And, um, please don't tell anyone about this? This is just between the two of us."

"Of course I won't tell!"

"I know. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to go have a lie down. Thanks to a certain someone, my arse is killing me."

As they separated with mutual laughter, Hermione could barely keep from cheering. She reminded herself that her relationship with Harry still had a ways to go. Harry needed quite a bit of training before he'd be confident enough to put her over his knee on his own initiative. And she still needed to get him to see her as 'girlfriend' instead of 'best friend'. Still, all that could wait. For now, she needed to get back to her dorms and get some privacy so she could give her heated sex and stiff nipples some much-needed attention.

_A\N: You can support me and commission stuff from my Pat Reon__._


	2. Upsetting Molly

_A\N: I do not own Harry Potter_

**Chapter 2: Upsetting Molly**

A year ago, Hermione wouldn't have minded spending a few weeks of her summer vacation with the Weasleys. But then last year she didn't have a cute and clueless boy with whom she was trying to get some alone time.

The original plan had to been to stay with Harry and Sirius. Harry had written her a long letter about how the Blacks had an ancestral home in London, how Sirius had always hated the place, and how Sirius' cousin Andromeda Tonks had convinced him that the best way to stick it to his family was clean up 12 Grimmauld Place and populate it with people his family would most emphatically have disapproved of (like Hermione and the Weasleys).

Unfortunately, sometime during the cleaning of the place, the professional curse-breakers Sirius had hired had stumbled across something hidden in the house that had sent all their plans for a toss. Harry wasn't sure what this thing was, except whatever it was, was so dangerous Professor Dumbledore himself had put in an appearance, and Sirius (who normally told him everything) had refused to discuss it. The only thing Harry had managed to find out was that it had something to do with Voldemort, which in retrospect made sense considering the majority of Sirius' family had been fanatical supporters of that lunatic.

Either way, 12 Grimmauld Place was locked down until an even larger contingent of curse-breakers could go over every single brick and stone to make sure Voldemort hadn't left behind any other surprises. Which meant their summer vacation plans were now based out of the Weasleys' home. And as charming as that home was, it was also quite crowded.

To top it all off, the highly anticipated trip to the Quidditch World Cup finals had ended in disaster when the Death Eater remnants had started a riot. Miraculously, no one had been seriously hurt, but someone had set off a Dark Mark that had sent the Ministry in a tizzy and had Mr. Weasley and his son Percy working overtime.

It had taken her quite a bit of coaxing and teasing and cuddling to get Harry to stop brooding about the whole mess. By the time he came out of his funk, they'd also quietly decided to 'try out' being boyfriend and girlfriend. And a key part of her successful strategy had been a particular mini-skirt - one short enough that her knickers were fully visible when she bent over. It had started life as one of her normal skirts that she had carefully transfigured, and it worked beautifully to distract Harry. Particularly when combined with the black lacy knickers she'd bought specifically to go with the skirt.

It had also led to quite a bit of shouting when Molly Weasley had glimpsed sight of it. Normally, Hermione would feel bad about upsetting the woman, even if she did think the Weasley matriarch was way too controlling for her own good. In this case, though, that little tiff seemed to be about to pay unexpected dividends.

"Look, Hermione, I do love to see you in that skirt," admitted Harry seriously. "But I don't want you upsetting Mrs. Weasley." He gave that shy smile that always made her feel warm. "You can model for me once we're back in Hogwarts. After all, there's only a week left before the vacation's over."

"No way. In Hogwarts we'll be hidden under robes all the time. I got that skirt to show off, and I'm not going to keep it hidden just because some old biddy is still living in the 19th century."

Harry was frowning now (but still looking cute doing it). "Hermione, Mrs. Weasley is the mother of my friend, and she's our host. If she doesn't like it, it's just polite not to upset her. I'm not saying you can't wear it, just not while we're here."

Hermione felt a tingle in her core as Harry's stern tone registered. Getting Harry to spank her a few months back had been one of the most arousing experiences of her young life. In these last few weeks, she'd managed to tease Harry into giving her the odd light smack to her rump, but he'd yet to repeat his earlier performance. Could this be her chance? Hermione decided to push. "Oh? And what will you do if I do decide to wear it?"

"Hermione!" There was a definite sternness there.

"Yes, that's my name." Hermione gave her best smirk. "Don't wear it out."

Harry sighed and rubbed his head. "I can't believe this, you really are acting like a brat. All right Hermione, if that's how you want to play it. If you don't stop wearing that skirt here, I will punish you just like I did the last time."

Hermione gave a look of mock outrage. "You'd spank me? Just for wearing _my _clothes?"

"Yes, Hermione. I _will_ spank you if you wear that skirt again while we're here." Harry's tone grew persuasive. "Come on, it's just for a week."

"Oh all right." Even as she pouted, inside Hermione was jumping for joy. Now she just needed to pick her time.

* * *

It was a couple of days later. Mr. Weasley and Percy were at work, Sirius was busy at Grimmauld Place, Ginny was visiting a friend, and all the boys were out playing quidditch. Hermione had stayed back claiming a book to read, but instead she had been busy deciding on her dress. A simple shirt top, she decided, and of course, her short skirt.

After careful consideration, Hermione smirked mischievously as she took out her wand. She had to thank Sirius for letting it slip that the Ministry didn't bother monitoring for underage magic around Wizarding households. Unfairness to muggleborns aside, it now meant she could use her wand to carefully shorten her skirt by yet another inch. Now, the faintest hint of the curve of her buttocks could be seen even when she stood, and the simple act of bending over would leave her bottom almost completely exposed. To further seal the deal was her black lacy lingerie, skimpy enough to show quite a bit of creamy flesh.

Hermione smiled as she imagined Harry's reaction when he saw her out on the quidditch pitch. The other boys might stare as well, but she didn't care about them. What would Harry do? Would he wait until they are alone to confront her? Would he drag her back to deal with her right away? Or would he spank her right there on the Quidditch pitch, in front of the Weasley boys? Hermione found that last thought equal parts mortifying and arousing, but admitted to herself it was the least likely scenario.

So intent in her thoughts, Hermione hardly registered Molly Weasley's presence in the kitchen, until her outraged voice gave Hermione pause. "MISS HERMIONE GRANGER! Where do you think you're going dressed like that?!"

Annoyed by the interruption, Hermione replied with a curt, "Out."

"Out? Half-naked like that?!"

"Yes, out. Now if you don't mind..."

"Oh, I absolutely do! You are not going anywhere except back to your room to put on a proper dress!"

"No thanks, some of us like dressing as if we're in the 20th century."

"Miss Granger," there was a definite warning growl as Mrs. Weasley came around the kitchen counter. "You will do as I say!"

"Or else what?" Hermione smirked as she remember having an identical conversation with Harry. "You'll spank me?"

Mrs. Weasley went completely red in the face and seemed at a loss for words. Deciding the conversation was over, Hermione turned away, only to be brought up short once more, this time by a vicious pain in her ear.

"OW! Mrs. Weasley!" Hermione screeched in pain as Mrs. Weasley established a firm grip on her ear. Now using that grip, the woman hauled Hermione around to face the kitchen counter. Hermione realized she might be as tall as Mrs. Weasley, but the grown woman had a distinct advantage in mass and muscle.

Before she knew what was happening, Hermione found a firm hand on her back pressing her face down on the counter. And then, with a loud crack, an iron hard palm crashed into her bum.

The very first swat informed Hermione that Mrs. Weasley could spank much harder than Harry.

The second swat confirmed something she had suspected - bending over, her skirt offered no protection to her bum, and neither did those lacy knickers.

The next ten swats were delivered in as many seconds, leaving Hermione squealing and gasping for breath.

"Now, Miss Granger, have you learned your lesson? Are you going to go up and change?" came Mrs. Weasley's stern voice.

Getting spanked by her friend's mother was an unlooked-for and utterly humiliating experience, and the dozen swats had raised a fierce sting. Even worse, with the way she was positioned, if anyone entered the Weasley's kitchen their first sight would be of her reddening arse! Hermione's mouth moved without any input from her brain, "I'm too old for this! Now let me go you hag!"

Retribution was not long in coming. One strong hand holding her in position, the other beat a merciless tattoo on Hermione's posterior. The spanks were hard, fast, and seemed to unerringly find the most sensitive spots on her rear. In a little over a minute, Hermione was coming to genuinely regret her rude response. "OW! OW! OW! I'm sorry Mrs. Weasley! I'm sorry! I'll go change!"

"Oh, now you're sorry? I think you need to be a bit sorrier!"

Hermione felt a jolt of fear as she realized the situation was completely out of her control. She had stumbled her way into a genuine disciplinary spanking, and she was finding it a much more frightening and painful experience than her little games with Harry. Her entire world narrowed down to the hard hand that was setting her arse on fire, and how to get it to stop. Sobbing and wailing and pleading did not reduce the sting. Stomping her feet and wriggling her arse had no effect on Mrs. Weasley's aim.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, there came a pause in the spanking. Through her tears, Hermione heard the words, "Now Miss Granger, will you do as you're told?"

"Y-yes, Mrs. Weasley, I will. I p-promise to go change right away!"

"Oh, I know you will. But before that you will do something else. Are you listening?"

"Y-yes."

"Good. I want you to move to the middle of the floor. Then, you will bend over and touch your toes."

Hermione's eyes widened with horror as she realized her suffering was yet to end. "No, Mrs. Weasley please - "

_SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!_

The spanking resumed instantly, four hard swats that left Hermione screeching. "Now, once more, Miss Granger. Will you do as you're told?"

"Yes!"

"Good. Now, get over there and bend over."

The hand holding her down finally released its grip, and Hermione got up sniffling, her face burning as hot as her arse. Too ashamed to look Mrs. Weasley in the eye, she shuffled over to the center of the clear area.

Looking at the ground, Hermione's stomach clenched as she realized she was, in fact, going to bend over and meekly present her bottom for chastisement to this harridan. Her throbbing arse ended any thoughts of defiance before they could begin. Hermione felt like crying all over again from the humiliation, as she bent over and touched her toes, her skirt riding up high enough to reveal her lace-clad bottom in full.

"Good. Stay."

Bent over, Hermione could hear Mrs. Weasley moving around in the kitchen. Peeking around her legs, she saw Mrs. Weasley coming back into view. Hermione swallowed hard as she saw in her hand a long and heavy wooden spoon.

Mrs. Weasley took position to Hermione's left. Soon, she could feel the spoon's rough back tap-tapping on her heated flesh. Right now, even the light taps were enough to make Hermione flinch. Then the tapping stopped. Mrs. Weasley shifted. Hermione shut her eyes, gritted her teeth, and clenched her arse. And the spoon came whooshing down.

_CRACK!_ "OWWW!"

_CRACK!_ "EEK!"

Hermione wouldn't have believed her bottom could get any hotter, but each swat with the spoon felt like a kiss from a burning coal. The second swat had Hermione jerking halfway up, but threats of extra swats swiftly sent her back down. The swats came slowly, several seconds apart, on alternating cheeks. Hermione's tears flowed freely as she did her best to keep position.

Finally, after ten swats, Mrs. Weasley ordered her up. Immediately, Hermione's hands flew to her rear as she danced from toe to toe, trying desperately to rub away the sting. As a final cherry on the cake, she had to stand there for several minutes as Mrs. Weasley lectured her on proper behavior before sending her to her room.

Hermione didn't go to her room though. Her first stop was the bathroom. Lifting her skirt and lowering her knickers, she avidly studied the damage in the mirror.

Her entire bum was a deep crimson, and on top of that were purple bruises left by the spoon. Hermione closed her eyes and lost herself in the sensation of her fingers gently exploring the contours of her thrashed posterior. After a few minutes one of her hands slipped between her legs, and Hermione shuddered as she encountered the slick folds of her aroused sex. In her mind, Hermione was going over the spanking. Only now she was replacing Mrs. Weasley with Harry. It was Harry, forcefully holding her down and smacking her arse. Dominating her to the point where she would meekly bend over for a beating.

With that vision fueling her, it didn't take long at all before she was shuddering in pleasure, leaning against a wall because her legs couldn't support her through the force of her orgasm.

It was as she was cleaning herself up that Hermione heard the sounds of the boys returning from their game. Immediately, a wonderful idea came to her. Mrs. Weasley may have interrupted her appointment with Harry, but Hermione would still get to have some fun with him!

* * *

"Really? A spoon?"

Hermione pouted. "It stung like crazy! Can't you see the bruises?"

Harry snorted. "I can, in fact." He was slowly massaging Hermione's bruised flesh, rubbing cold cream on her bared bottom as the girl lay face down on her bed. "You know this is entirely your fault? You knew she was upset about that skirt."

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

"And you know if she hadn't spanked you, I would have. Or did you think I was joking?"

Hermione turned to face him. "Tell me truly, Harry, would you really have spanked me?"

"Yes, Hermione, I would have. Unless you want to change our arrangement."

"No Harry. But I was wondering if you could actually follow through."

"Well, I can, and I will. So watch yourself," Harry admonished, as his hand come down with a firm slap on her bum.

Hermione gave a little 'eep'. "All right, you've made your point. But Harry, I hope you've been taking notes."

"Notes?"

"Yup." Hermione lifted her hips up and gave her arse a little wiggle. "This is what a properly spanked bum looks like. Something for you to aim for the next time I misbehave."

Harry laughed and shook his head. "You really are incorrigible."

Smiling like a cat that ate the cream and the canary, Hermione lay back down and let Harry continue his gentle ministrations. Yes, she decided, what she loved most about a good spanking was the cuddling and massaging afterwards. As she enjoyed the delightful sensation of Harry's fingers, Hermione decided on her next goal in their relationship - convincing Harry to extend the post-spanking massage to between her legs.


	3. Meeting Luna

_A\N: First thing written in 4 months. Enjoy._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter_

**Chapter 3: Meeting Luna**

The last days of summer vacation passed away with outward calmness. While Mrs. Weasley scrutinized Hermione's clothes for the next few days after their encounter, seeing the teenager in jeans and long skirts seemed to mollify the matriarch and she went back to her usual friendly if controlling demeanor.

Hermione, on the other hand, was thinking furiously. The spanking from Mrs. Weasley had taught her several things about herself that she now needed to ponder.

First, looking back on the experience, Hermione realized she had very few regrets about the affair. Being unwillingly spanked into obedience like a naughty child was one of her deepest fantasies, and having it fulfilled by a completely unexpected source did not change that. True, in the moment, the pain, humiliation and loss of control had all been rather frightening. Now, though, Hermione wished she had stayed stubborn for a bit longer, and properly put Molly's spanking arm to the test. The shock and surprise had led to her submitting a bit too quickly for her own tastes.

Yes, her pride was hurt, and a reckless part of Hermione wanted to once more parade around in skimpy attire in front of the woman. Hermione wanted to let Mrs. Weasley know that she was far from cowed, and maybe invite a repeat performance. Even the large number of other people present in the Weasley household wasn't really a deterrent. Now that she was coming to terms with it, Hermione realized she might have a bit of an exhibitionist streak. A tiny part of her was actually disappointed that no one had walked in to witness her bending over and getting her arse smacked.

But while she could fantasize about it, Hermione firmly refused to act on the impulse. First, there was no telling how Mrs. Weasley would react to a repeated transgression. Getting in touch with her parents, getting other adults like Mr. Weasley involved, or even throwing her out of the house - all of these were possible reactions, and none of them sounded fun.

The second, and much more important reason, was Harry.

Once he'd gotten over his initial amusement, his chivalrous streak had come to the fore. Even though Hermione was completely accepting of her punishment, he still hadn't liked the idea of someone else beating her. It took quite a few hugs and kisses to keep him from glaring daggers at Molly for the rest of the vacation. Not that Hermione minded - Harry was just so adorable when he got protective, hugging and kissing him was the very opposite of a hardship.

Hermione had seriously considered just coming clean and admitting to Harry that she enjoyed being spanked. But then that would mean admitting that she was all right with getting spanked by people other than her boyfriend, and that was a conversation she felt they were a bit too early for. Besides, while getting spanked by Mrs. Weasley had carried it with it the thrill of the forbidden, Hermione had no doubts that Harry was the one she was really interested in. And not just to satisfy her kinks either. Now that they were boyfriend and girlfriend, Hermione found him a great person to spend time with. When they didn't have Ron hanging around whining about having to study, Harry had a genuine curiosity about practical magic, and they had found mutual enjoyment in researching interesting charms and hexes that were not covered by the Hogwarts syllabus.

And Harry was so wonderfully tactile. While initially skittish, he'd quickly gotten fond of physical contact, and they had spent many pleasant hours just holding hands or hugging while walking around Ottery St. Catchpole or watching the sunset. And he was such a gentleman about it too. He seemed to genuinely enjoy simple friendly contact, and would never get handsy unless Hermione asked him.

No, it was a very good thing she had with Harry, and she wasn't about to let some random fantasy interfere with that.

Another thing that Hermione had learned, was that she needed to start stocking up on healing potions. Immediately following the spanking, sitting down to the Weasley family meals had been quite an adventure. Her bruised arse had protested heavily against the plain wooden chairs, and she had spent that first dinner wondering if anyone would notice how gingerly she took her seat, or how stiffly she sat in an effort to keep from squirming. It had honestly been kind of exciting, but the lack of options bothered her. If she had some Bruise-Healing Paste handy, then it would have been Hermione's choice if she wanted to sit through dinner on a sore behind.

Plus, there was the issue of Voldemort. While only Harry had witnessed his shade in their first year, Hermione had no reason not to believe him. And considering Pettigrew, who knew how many other secret Death Eaters were running around. Not to mention the known Death Eaters like Lucius Malfoy. And while magic capable of healing things beyond cuts and bruises was too advanced for even Hermione, potions were an excellent stopgap. True, most healing potions were fifth year and beyond, but Hermione was the girl who had successfully brewed Polyjuice Potion in her second year. In hindsight, Hermione actually felt extremely stupid. All of last year they had worried about Sirius attacking Harry, yet not once did she take any cautionary measures like stocking up on Blood Replenishing potions and Essence of Dittany.

Well, she was going to fix that. The chaos at the Quidditch World Cup had made it clear there was trouble brewing, and Hermione was going to be doing some brewing of her own as soon as she was back in Hogwarts. Starting with Bruise-Healing Paste. Given what a trouble magnet he was, Hermione expected Harry would be needing it more often than she did!

All in all, Hermione thought the whole thing had been a positive experience. She and Harry were closer than ever, she'd gotten to scratch an itch, and now she had a project to keep herself occupied at Hogwarts. Even Harry, when she mentioned her plans to him, agreed that keeping a stock of potions on hand was a good idea, and had volunteered himself as her assistant in spite of his distaste for the subject.

There were just two things bothering her. First, Hermione had been looking forward to engineering her second spanking session with Harry, but that had fallen by the wayside thanks to recent events. And second, Mrs. Weasley seemed to think she'd done a good job 'reforming' Hermione, and Hermione didn't want to leave her with that satisfaction. And so Hermione planned. It would take some good timing, but she had an idea on how to hit two birds with one stone.

* * *

September 1 dawned a slightly cloudy day, with a chance of rain. The entire Weasley home had descended into chaos as last minute packing was done. Harry was sitting aloof by the fireplace, above it all. Hermione had easily persuaded Harry to leave with her early with the promise of some alone time on the train, so as ten o' clock arrived, Harry was waiting for her even as the rest of the Weasley children ran around looking for things that they really should have gathered yesterday.

Mrs. Weasley was also there, trying to talk him into waiting for the rest of her brood, when Hermione strode into the kitchen, dragging her stroller trunk. "Are you ready, Harry?" she chirped happily. "Then let's go. Bye, Mrs. Weasley! Tell Ron we'll see him on the train!"

Briskly moving past the two, Hermione picked up some Floo powder from the jar above the mantel and bent down to toss it into the flames. Above the sound of the flames flaring and turning green, Hermione heard the gasp of shock. Looking back, she had to fight from smirking. Harry's eyes were glued to her rear, and well they ought, seeing as how she was wearing the exact same short skirt that had so provoked Mrs. Weasley, and bending down would have given Harry a good glimpse of her underwear, a skimpy blue thong chosen for the occasion.

Judging by Mrs. Weasley's open mouth and darkening face, she too had recognized the offending garment. Not giving her a chance to speak, Hermione gave her a cheerful wave before winking at Harry and stepping into the fire. A few seconds of spinning and smoke, and she was stumbling out on to a mostly empty Platform 9.75.

Harry followed a moment after, and Hermione had to reach out a hand and steady him as he almost fell face-first out of the fireplace. "Easy there, Harry," Hermione chuckled.

Huffing, Harry regained his feet, then glanced down at her skirt. "Hermione, what are you doing wearing that? Wasn't the last time enough for you?"

"So Mrs. Weasley noticed, did she?"

"She'd gone purple in the face! I left before she could say anything to me. Seriously, Hermione, what the hell?"

"Two reasons. One, I know you love me in this skirt. You said you love my legs, and I love showing them off for you. And two, Mrs. Weasley needs to learn that she does not dictate to me."

"So you did it just to annoy her."

"No, I did it because you like it. Annoying her was a bonus."

"Except I specifically told you not to upset her," Harry observed tersely.

"I know," Hermione looked down meekly. "You said you'd punish me if I did it. And Harry, I'm willing to accept my punishment." Then Hermione raised her eyes. "But, I am _not_ apologizing to that woman, and don't you ask me to!"

Harry gave a sigh and ran a hand through his already messy hair. "All right, hopefully Mrs. Weasley will cool off in time. As for you..." Reaching out, Harry took Hermione's hand in his and started leading her on. "Let's get to it."

Hermione's breath hitched. "Wait... here? Now?"

"If we can get a free compartment, then yes, now. Once Ron joins us, we won't get any time to be alone until the weekend, and I'd rather get it over with right away. So move it."

Hermione could feel her heartrate kick up. It always turned her on when Harry acted assertive. And now he was proposing to spank her on the Hogwarts Express, surrounded by their unknowing schoolmates! He couldn't have pushed her exhibitionist button harder if he had tried, and Hermione had to keep herself from rushing forward in her eagerness.

Alas, for a time it seemed luck was against them. In spite of their early arrival, every compartment they looked into seemed to have at least one occupant. Hermione was keenly aware that any minute the rest of the Weasleys would show up to spoil her fun. Harry must have felt the same way, because when he spotted a compartment that only seemed to contain a single younger girl, he knocked politely at the door.

The girl, a skinny blonde waif with long lanky hair and slightly bulging eyes, looked up and bade them enter. Her first words, delivered in the same tone as one might comment on the weather, was, "You're Harry Potter."

Harry nodded, "I am. And this is Hermione Granger. I don't think we've met...?"

"No, we haven't. I'm Luna Lovegood. Did you wish to sit here?"

"Ah, not quite. Miss Lovegood..."

"Luna, please."

"All right, and you can call me Harry. Luna, could I borrow your compartment for just ten minutes? I need to have an urgent and private conversation with Hermione. I know it's an imposition, but if you could help us...?"

"Oh. Of course. Happy to help." As the girl stood up, her large eyes turned from Harry to Hermione and back again. "Are you sure you need only ten minutes? I can wait longer if you need it."

Harry flushed as he realized what the girl was insinuating, and Hermione couldn't help but giggle. "Yes Harry, only ten minutes? Are you sure?" she laughed.

Harry spluttered for a bit, before he firmed his voice. "Only a few minutes Luna. Thanks a lot."

"You're welcome, Harry." As the girl dreamily wandered into the corridor, Harry closed the compartment door and drew the curtains. Then silencing charms were swiftly applied to the doors and windows. By this time, the butterflies in Hermione's stomach had started dancing a jig. As Harry turned to her with a stern look, she felt a heady mix of arousal and fear course through her veins.

Silently turning around, Hermione bent down and placed her hands on the seat. Reaching one hand back, she flipped up her skirt.

Harry swallowed. The lacy blue thong Hermione wore did only the minimum to protect her modesty, the creamy swell of her bottom was almost completely bared for his inspection.

Hermione peeked back and gave him a grin, "Do you like my new underwear, Harry? I picked it out for you!"

Harry swallowed and cleared his throat. "You knew you were going to be punished and you picked underwear that would barely cover anything?"

"Well, its not like regular knickers provide much protection. I figured if I did get spanked, I'd at least get to give my loving boyfriend a show," Hermione explained, smiling, even as she gave her bum a saucy wiggle.

Harry swallowed again, eyes transfixed. "Ah. That's... very nice of you..."

"Isn't it?" Hermione shifted her weight from one leg to the other, and she almost laughed as she saw Harry's hypnotized gaze following her swaying bottom. "Since I'm such a good girlfriend, maybe you could go easy on me?"

That seemed to snap Harry out of his daze. "You are _not_ getting out of this now."

Moving into position, he raised his hand. Hermione turned her eyes to the worn leather of the train seat and braced herself. _CRACK!_

Hermione gasped in shock. _That stings!_

Three more echoing smacks followed on alternating cheeks. Each one drew a hiss or a gasp, and tears started prickling Hermione's eyes as she swore she could feel palm-shaped brands forming on her buttocks. Either her mind was playing tricks on her, or Harry was spanking her way harder than last time.

Peeking back and watching Harry deliver the fifth spank, Hermione was certain it was the latter. Standing as he was, Harry had the room for a good wind-up, and was putting his entire body into each swing.

Hermione closed her eyes and gave a soft moan as the sixth spank crashed into her bum. _Harry's not holding back at all! He really means to punish me this time!_

Eyes closed, Hermione imagined she could feel the intent behind each slap. Each time Harry's hand landed, the pain carried a message - _You've been a bad girl, and you deserve to be punished._

_I have, and I do,_ Hermione mentally replied. Her whole world narrowed down to her burning bottom, and the more subtle heat growing in her core. As the punishment reached an even dozen, Hermione could feel the tears starting to drip down from behind closed eyelids. Soft gasps gave way to sharper yelps, and sighs were replaced by sniffles.

Shifting her feet and gyrating her hips, Hermione wriggled her bum in a futile effort to relieve the sting - and also to give her boyfriend something to aim for. _I hope Harry enjoys the show! He really is so good to me!_

After Hermione had mentally counted twenty spanks, there was a pause. She could hear Harry's breathing, heavy from exertion. Then his warm fingers were gently cupping and giving a brief message to her burning buttocks. "All right Hermione. You can get up now."

Twenty spanks was much shorter compared to the last time Harry had punished her, but Hermione wasn't complaining - the blazing heat told her Harry had put every ounce of strength behind each spank. Hands clutching her bottom, Hermione _oohed_ and _ahhed_ as she hopped on her toes, doing her best to soothe her aching rear. After a moment of that, she turned to her boyfriend, smiling through her tears. "Wow Harry, you really gave it to me!"

"Well you really asked for it!"

This had them both laughing as they hugged. Hermione buried her face in Harry's shoulder and simply enjoyed his gentle warmth. After a minute of being held, Hermione felt she had recovered enough to face the rest of the day. Sharing a kiss laden with promise, the teens separated. Harry dispelled his spells, pulled back the curtain, and opened the compartment door. "Luna? You can come back in."

The blonde girl was humming as she walked back in. "All right then, Harry?"

"Oh yes. Thanks for loaning us the compartment, Luna. We'll be going now," Harry replied with a smile.

"I don't mind sharing. It's not like I'm waiting for anyone," Luna offered. "And the train's filling up."

Hermione glanced out the window. Luna had a point - in just a few short minutes, the platform had grown far more crowded. Still no sign of the Weasleys, though.

She shared a look with Harry. "We're only really expecting Ron..." Hermione murmured, and Harry nodded.

If Luna was pleased they had accepted her invitation, she gave no sign, her face retaining the vaguely puzzled expression she had worn since they met. The two newcomers quickly stowed their luggage and took their seats.

Or tried to, in Hermione's case. Sitting down a bit too quickly, Hermione gave a hiss as her throbbing rear forced her halfway back to her feet. _I never realized how hard these seats were!_ A second, more cautious attempt saw Hermione finally seating herself. _It's going to be worse once the train starts._

Looking up, Hermione flushed as she realized Luna had seen her little dance. Hermione was just wondering if she should ignore it or try to make up some explanation, when Luna turned to Harry and said in her disinterested tone, "Tell me Harry, is it hard babysitting someone your own age?"

Hermione felt her jaw drop and her face grow as hot as her bottom as her brain came to a screeching halt. Harry too, seemed briefly lost for words, before he managed to choke out, "Babysitting?!"

"Well," Luna place a finger on her chin in a thinking pose. "You're certainly not her parent, but you just gave Hermione a spanking. So that must make you her babysitter."

Hermione was spluttering, trying to decide exactly which part of that statement to address first, Harry chose to focus on the practicalities. "How did you know? I silenced the door."

"Maybe," shrugged Luna. "But if you look, the door's only a part of it, there's also that bit of plain wall before the next compartment starts. If you aimed only at the door, then the spell field might not have extended all the way. I think that's what happened."

"H-how many heard?" choked out Hermione, horrified.

"No one else, I think. It was quite faint. I could only hear it because I was leaning against that bit of wall while I waited."

Embarrassed, Hermione wanted to accuse the girl of eavesdropping, but Luna's frank tone and untroubled gaze forced her to leave such accusations unvoiced. Harry too seemed uncertain how to proceed, which gave Luna a chance to drag the conversation back to her point of curiosity. "Harry, how did you end up as Hermione's babysitter? Did her parents hire you?"

"He's not my babysitter, he's my boyfriend!" Hermione snapped. Taking a breath to calm herself, she continued, "And, if you must know, we have an agreement that if I do something wrong, he can punish me for it with a spanking."

There was a long moment of silence. Harry still seemed to be struggling to speak, and Hermione was trying to come to terms with the fact that the first person to find out about the true nature of her relationship with Harry was a complete stranger. _Maybe this is better? I can find out how other magicals will react to something like this without involving our friends..._

Hermione's train of thought was thoroughly derailed by Luna's next observation. "So... he's an _unpaid_ babysitter?"

That was too much for Harry, and he burst into laughter. "Un... unpaid...Hah! Ha-ha-hee! Good one, Luna." Barely keeping his mirth in check, Harry continued, "I have to admit, sometimes I really do feel like an unpaid -_hah - _babysitter."

"Harryyyy," Hermione whined, but under her mortification she could feel her own laughter bubbling up. Luna, Hermione felt, had a very strange sense of humor.

"To answer your question, Luna," Harry said cheerfully, "It does have its downsides. For instance," he held up his right hand, the pam of which was still visibly red, "Being Hermione's babysitter - sorry, _boyfriend_ \- can be quite hard on my hand."

Feeling ganged up on, Hermione pouted and looked away. Luna, in the meantime, was making sympathetic noises at Harry's situation. "That looks like it hurts. Oh, wait, I have something that could help you out."

"Really? What?" asked Harry curiously.

"A hairbrush!" exclaimed Luna. "It's a pretty large one made of wood, I think it would work much better for a spanking than your hand. You can borrow it if you want."

Hermione's attention immediately whipped back to the conversation. Part of her was horrified at the thought of Harry spanking her with a hairbrush borrowed from _this little minx_, and the other part was _very_ curious as to what such a spanking would feel like. _Would it sting worse than Mrs. Weasley's spoon?_

"I don't know, Luna," mused Harry with mock gravitas. "Do you think your hairbrush will work on Hermione?"

Luna seemed to ponder this with utmost seriousness. "You'll know how tough her bottom is better than me," she declared. "But you can inspect my hairbrush. Shall I get it out of my trunk?"

Hermione couldn't help it. In spite of the embarrassing topic, she let out a snort of laughter. She simply couldn't tell if Luna was serious or not, and that somehow made everything funnier. Her mirth set Harry to laughing as well, but that didn't stop the banter at all. Hermione found herself cheerfully participating in a discussion that may as well have been titled _How to Spank Hermione Granger_. From that rather niche interest, they moved to more general topics. By the time the Weasleys finally arrived and Ron dragged the conversation to Quidditch, Harry, Luna and Hermione had accomplished much.

First, they had established that since Luna was a 3rd year Ravenclaw, it was logistically infeasible for Harry to borrow her hairbrush whenever he needed it. Either Hermione's spanking would have to wait a day or two, or Harry would have to use his hand or some other alternative.

After discussing proposed alternatives, it was agreed that the simplest option would be for Harry to use his belt. Hermione objected on the grounds of her bottom being too delicate for such harsh treatment, but her laughter detracted from her argument, and the motion was carried.

The next thing to come under fire was Harry's subpar transfiguration skills. Hermione herself pointed out that the cane had been the traditional implement of corporal punishment in muggle Britain, and as a muggleborn it was only right and proper that her bottom be made to uphold tradition. However, the easiest way to source a cane in Hogwarts would be to transfigure one. Hermione had sufficient skill for the task, but since she refused to "conjure a rod for my own bum", Harry found himself saddled with homework even before the school year had started.

Once the topic of transfiguration had been introduced, school work came to the fore. Hermione and Luna both bonded on their love of Runes, though Hermione was more focused on the practicalities of enchanting whereas Luna had more interest in the historical aspects. Harry on the other hand was far more accepting of Luna's theories on magizoology.

Hermione found Luna clever, quirky, and possessed of a truly outstanding poker face. While Harry was clearly treating the discussion on spanking as a joke, and Hermione was treating it mostly as a joke (while taking mental notes), Luna had maintained the same distant semi-serious air throughout. And yet, that very seriousness made everything ten times funnier for Harry and Hermione. By the end of that train ride, Luna had cemented her place as a friend to both Harry and Hermione. And Ron might call her 'Loony' and Ginny might roll her eyes at Luna's ideas, but it didn't matter to them at all.

It was easier for Harry - he was always delighted to meet someone who treated him as Harry Potter rather than the Boy-Who-Lived, and her being both clever and funny was a bonus. Hermione though couldn't quite forget how the conversation had started. But, in spite of the specter of hairbrushes and belts and canes and other such horrible things being introduced to her poor defenseless posterior, Hermione had a feeling that - much like the morning's spanking - being Luna's friend would be worth it.


End file.
